


The Maid's Tale

by Treon



Category: Sefer Yehudit | Book of Judith
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 1, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 18:35:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6250921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treon/pseuds/Treon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the Feast of Yehudit, the holiday celebrating the great miracle that happened here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Maid's Tale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IShouldBeWriting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IShouldBeWriting/gifts).



> Adar 13th is the perfect day for a Yeudit story. During the Hellenistic era, before Purim was widely accepted in the Land of Israel, the 13th of Adar was celebrated as a day of victory in the Hasmonean battle against the Syrian-Seleucid General Nicanor,and Yeudit is seen traditionally and by many researchers as a story of that battle. 
> 
> I wrote the story based on Prof. Grinz's opinion that the tale was written in the early Persian period and reflects the political situation of the time. The names are transliterated from the Hebrew, using Prof. Grinz's reconstruction.

An old woman was sitting on a straw mat, five young children besides her.  They were sifting wheat grains, helping the holiday preparations in what little way old women and young children could.  The men had gone out to slaughter the choicest sheep, and the women were busy cooking the holiday meal.  
  
Soon the men will return.  The winter days were short and sundown will soon be upon them.  They will then start the festivities, the Feast of Yehudit, the holiday celebrating the great miracle that happened here.  
  
"Tell us about Yehudit!" one of the children asked.  
  
The others repeated after her.  "Yes, tell us!"  
  
"Please!"  
  
The older woman looked at the children's eager faces and smiled.  They were her great-grandchildren.  For them it was a story, for her it was a long-ago memory of a time when God had saved them all from certain destruction.  God has saved His nation and their city, and He had shown His favor to her and to her mistress Yehudit.  He had blessed her with four generations of descendants.  
  
"A long, long time ago," she started, and the children quieted down, "when I was about your mother's age, there was a big war.  Many peoples rebelled against the Great King of Persia, and he sent his army to put down the rebellion.  The army marched through many lands, burned down towns and destroyed their temples."  
  
The children listened wide-eyed.  
  
"The army, led by the evil Holofarna came closer and closer to here, and we trembled at the rumors that preceded it."  
  
When the Tribe of Shimeon returned from the Exile, they found that their ancestral lands along the southern coast were occupied by foreigners.  And so they settled further north, by the Valley of Israel, naming their new towns after their original homes.    
  
One of these towns was Betulia.  
  
"Betulia was not an important town, even then, but it was the only major town between us and Jerusalem."  She did not mention the Samaritans, for they were not of Israel and would not defend Jerusalem.  "The evil Holofarna was not in any hurry.  He lay siege to the town and waited."    
  
"As the weeks passed by, we ran out of food and water.  The people became desperate.  Remember that winter a few years ago when there were no rains?"  
  
The children nodded.  The rains did not come and the fields were barren.  They had been much younger then, but they still remembered those tense days, when everybody donned sackcloth and ashes, and cried and wailed to God to forgive them.  For if there were no rains, it was surely a punishment from God.  
  
"This was far worse. The water-holes were completely empty, and the evil Holofarna and his army prevented us from drawing water from the spring. The town leaders called for a general meeting."  She herself had not gone, but she remembered how upset Yehudit was when she came back from that meeting.  
  
*****  
  
"The people of this town are fools!" Yehudit declared upon her return.  "They want to surrender!  They think we should have begged the Persians for peace; that if we had only offered an olive branch, it would have been enough to stave them off.  Don't they know that we are the only ones stopping these heathens from marching all the way to Judea?!"    
  
Judea lay far to the south, beyond the Samaritan region. Nestled within the Judean hills lay the beating heart of the Nation of Israel: Jerusalem.  And within the city walls - the Temple.    
  
It was not a magnificent building as the Temple of Old.  That Temple had been constructed of cedars brought from the Lebanon and covered with pure gold.  A shining edifice for miles around. The new Temple was built of local wood, a pale reminder of what had been. It had only been rebuilt recently, after years of exile, despite mounting opposition from the foreigners who now filled the land.    
  
Despite all the troubles, nothing could compare to the joy that filled everybody's hearts when the rebuilt Temple was consecrated.  In Betulia they had celebrated for seven whole days, blessing God for the benevolence He had shown His people.  
  
But now... The feeling of impending doom was unbearable.    
  
"We did not return to our land to be exiled again," Yehudit said.  "We are upholding our end of the covenant with God.  We do not follow the ways of our sinful forefathers and we do not kneel before foreign idols.  Surely He will uphold His end too.  The people don't understand that this is a test of our faith.  God will not forgive us if the Temple falls because we did not believe in Him."    
  
"But what are we supposed to do, then?" her maid asked her, "Wait for a savior?"  Yehudit, a wealthy woman, had shared her food stores with the town's people, but even those were emptying out.

"God will send one, just like he did in the days of old," her mistress answered.    
  
"But surely you understand the townsfolk.  People are dying of thirst.  How long can we wait for God's deliverance?"     
  
Yehudit looked at her maid, a thoughtful look on her face. "You are right.  If this is a test then maybe God is waiting for us to take the first step.  We should not fear the Persians. They don't fear God.  Goliath didn't fear Him either, and David slew him with a pebble."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
"And indeed God held up His end of the covenant, just as He had promised.  Yehudit took Holofarna's sword and chopped off his head."  
  
The woman's arm sliced through the air, and the children drew back, startled.  
  
She hoped that they will never face such danger, but if they ever did, she hoped they would trust God and trust themselves, and make their nation proud.  
   
"Come," she said, putting those thoughts aside.  "We must finish sifting the wheat."    
  
For this was not a time to worry about the future.  Tonight was a time for celebration.

 

[Image from children's book: Yehudit praying at Holofernes' camp]


End file.
